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2014-02-04 - Cutscene: The War on Manta: Darkness for Dark Business
The room is in darkness which is fine. Darkness suits him. He takes his name as a paean to darkness. A series of ceiling lights each throw a small circle of light forming a path to a larger circle and then, nothing. Black Manta walks the light path, his red eye lenses flashing as he passes under each light. A voice as hard and cutting as a straight razor says curtly, “Remove your helmet in my presence if you would keep your head.” The Manta stops and then doffs the helmet with a hiss of air hoses. he does not enter the final circle but stands on its edge, his features still obscured. A small act of rebellion. His free hand clenches into a fist. “A man is judged in our world by the enemies he makes. Your nemesis is Aquaman. The cattle choose to scorn him and belittle him and so you. Black Manta, are you ready to prove them wrong?” The man speaking is almost totally obscured. His guards are purposely in sight. “Aquaman is a demon out of hell to all in the sea,” the Manta growls, his voice a strained thing after to long underwater breathing dry, canned air. “My men are ready. I’m ready. When he comes for me I will kill him. That is what you want, right?” “Want? My wants are no concern to you. My goals are the result of logic. You would do well to adopt a similar attitude. But your preparations are satisfactory for my purposes.” Manta nods. “Thank you. We also installed the fail safes you provided.” “Excellent. We proceed to Phase Two. Move your men to the bay. Set off the demolition charges.” “Set o... which ones?” Manta asks, becoming alarmed. “All of them in the proper sequence of course,” the man explains in a condescending tone. “That’s ... New Venice will fall into the sea! I thought those bombs were going to be used to drop a section of blocks on Aquaman, not destroy the whole city!” Manta’s voice raises. “Maintain your composure, my friend. Black Manta, try to understand: a man who murders one child is merely hated. To truly be feared you just kill a few thousand at the very least,” the voice is almost hypnotic in its smooth cultured tones. “But a whole city ... the whole Justice League will be on my ass. That’s more than I signed on for,” Black Manta protests. Part of it is fear, part is a real desire to see if he can sweeten the deal even more. “Silence. My friend when I am finished with my plans I will have little use for the seas and they will be yours ... if you do this for me. A child, a city, it does not matter. What matters is showing everyone that nothing will stand between you and your goal. If you waver in your commitment you are of no use to me ... something to be discarded.” Manta hears a slight movement as safeties click and hands check their grips on rifle stocks. He remains still, truly thinking more about what is promised and and what he must do. “Understood. I will do what you demand. I will drown that city and I will kill Aquaman. People will learn not to laugh at Black Manta,” he says pulling his helmet back on. “I’m on it.” He turns and with a small nod he turns to go. The Manta’s benefactor drums his fingers on the arm of his chair as he watches Manta leave. Then he says softly, “Let dog bite dog as the saying goes.”